Alone
by TheDarkDancerWithTheDawnRose
Summary: Ianto's thoughts at the end of season 1. Story not written by me, I'm posting up for a friend of mine who doesn't have a ff account


**Hi everyone please don't freak out I'm not forgetting about Exchange Program or anything of the sort, in fact I was in the middle of writing a very sweet bit when a friend of mine asked me a favour. She doesn't have a fanfiction account and is far too shy to get one no matter how many times I tell her how good she is. She normally writes Stargate fics but in an unusual mood one day she wrote her one and only Torchwood fic Alone. Today after I've spent months badgering her about it she finally asked me to post it up for her and find out what you all think so here I am, taking a time out from writing to do just that. **

**This is set after Jack leaves at the end of season 1, It's Ianto's POV and rather angsty so let me know what you think. If you like it I might be able to convince her to actually get a FF account and maybe even write some more Torchwood you never know.**

**Anyway whether she decides to write more Torchwood or not I think she's an excellent writer and I thought this was a great story so I hope you enjoy it.**

**Kayla**

**Alone**

I never quite knew what it was that Jack and I shared, but I always knew what it wasn't. There was nothing romantic about it. It was about finding forgetfulness, but not just that. It was about the need to connect with someone – anyone, and there was the propinquity factor.

I always knew there was darkness in Jack although I had no clue as to what it entailed or how deeply it ran. When I met him, his very stance had screamed danger to me, but it was those eyes that had told the real story; haunted, blue eyes that spoke of loss and loneliness - a lot like what I was used to seeing staring back at me from the mirror every time I shaved.

I took the job he eventually offered so I could help Lisa but in hindsight, maybe I had really wanted to help him too, not in the way it ended up but in other little, insignificant ways. I knew he didn't really 'see' me at all, other than as a decorative accessory but at the time, that had suited my purpose. I worked quietly behind the scenes, observing and quickly realized that though he had closely guarded secrets, he really was a good man, trying to do the right thing for the world. His Torchwood really was different.

And I began to admire him greatly.

But not enough to tell him about Lisa.

Lisa…

For so long, I kept the faith. I told myself there had to be a way…

I hated Jack then. Even though he'd been right, and deep down I'd known that, my heart had refused to let go. I'd loved her so much. My soul aches for her still, but after she was gone, I continued to drag myself through life because I knew with certainty there was no hope for reconciliation in death. There was just the remote possibility that someday, at some point, the physical act of breathing might no longer hurt.

Jack was there for me then. He'd let me keep my job and had just been…there; a presence, offering the occasional reassuring touch. There'd been no pity, no drawn out recrimination, just acceptance accompanied by the unspoken implication that I needed to move forward.

I was surprised at first and somewhat sceptical, waiting for the other shoe to fall but when it didn't, I figured he'd probably made a few mistakes of his own at some point. But it wasn't until later that I really put it all together.

His strength that I'd always admired and the haunted eyes were connected. He'd been through his own version of hell, probably several versions…and survived. And for some reason I could never fathom, he believed I could do the same. He believed in ME!

And that's when I realized I had to move on, because I couldn't let him down. I had to find a way to put it behind me.

And again he was there.

That he should have sought me out in that regard seems only natural now, but at the time, I was rather shocked though quite flattered; that hero-worship thing coming into play. He was completely up front about it. For him, sex was an outlet; a way to forget for a while, and he thought it might be for me as well.

I'd never done the male/male thing before; never even considered it, and I told him that, but I went along with it anyway, hoping he'd be right.

He knew what he was doing; I'll give him that. He knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it while somehow making it seem the most natural thing in the world. I had no grounds for complaint, but it wasn't the answer for me, something we both immediately realized because it made me remember rather than forget. Yet for reasons I never really understood, I encouraged repeat performances, and eventually, we reached a kind of understanding. He took what I could give, never asked for what I couldn't but in return, gave himself completely, his eyes full of a passion often missing from other aspects of his life, and for just a few moments, at the climax of the storm, those haunted eyes would clear, and he would find peace.

How I envied him those moments. At times, I even felt resentful, but mostly, I felt a certain sense of pride that I was the instrument by which they were achieved.

Afterwards, the shadows in his eyes were always immediately back, which I believed in part was because he knew that what he found with me wasn't mutual. I knew it saddened him but he never questioned my right to make the choices I did. I wondered whether he'd been in a similar position at some point but I never asked, and he never said. In all the couplings we shared, we rarely spoke at all beyond what was necessary; before, during or afterward. Words would have been an unwelcome intrusion, detracting from the purpose of the activities.

Sometimes though, he would hold me for a little while before we separated. There was always great affection in that embrace, and in those moments, I could almost forget. That was as close to peace as I ever came, but I could never fully appreciate it, knowing it would not last for long. Jack never stayed beyond that. In truth, I didn't want him to. That would have made it out to be something it wasn't. But I never wanted him to leave either because that always heralded a stronger rush of longing for what was forever beyond my reach.

Gradually, over time, living…breathing began to hurt a little less. I'd sometimes catch him watching me with a faraway expression, as if remembering a different place and time. I think he must have had someone special once, or at least there had been someone for whom he'd deeply cared regardless of whether or not he/she/they had ever actually been his. I used to think the intensity of those feelings couldn't possibly have been anywhere close to those of mine for Lisa, since he could so easily find forgetfulness with me, but now…

I've had to rethink so many things about him…alter my perceptions so much. I've always had so many questions but now there are so many more. They would have remained unvoiced though – if he had stayed. I wouldn't have asked, but would he have told me anyway?

I missed him when he was…dead; more than I expected, even to the point of seeking out his scent on his overcoat. When Owen killed him, I was shocked and somewhat disbelieving, but at that point, the thought of being reunited with Lisa had overshadowed everything.

Later though, after I realized – after we all realized…

Is it easy to relinquish your life, even knowing it's not forever?

I don't think he really knew for sure when he went to battle Abaddon though, which is probably why he took Gwen. He'd wanted to say goodbye just in case. Strangely, that decision had hurt, especially since she'd been the one who had spearheaded the mutiny, but then I'd always thought he had a bit of a thing for her; her passion for life a huge draw card. But she's got a life apart from the weirdness and horror, and he would never try to cut in. Jack has a code of honour, unlike Owen. Unlike Gwen herself.

But then who am I to judge?

We've all seen and done too much. It has to get to everyone at some point, and we all have to deal with it in our own way.

And yet how much more has Jack seen and done? By keeping so much from us, he's been protecting us, and we never realized.

How does he cope?

Before he woke up, I'd convinced myself that I'd helped in a small way. But then he kissed me - in front of everyone. I hadn't expected that, and neither had anyone else, judging by their reactions. I didn't know if it had been to reassure me he was back or to reassure himself, or for some other reason entirely. One thing had been evident though; there had been love in that kiss. I'd felt it, but whether it had been love for me, or a rediscovered love for life…

And I honestly don't know what I'd wanted it to be.

I still don't.

Do I want him to love me?

Do I love him?

Maybe, but as to the kind of love…

It's nothing like what I felt for Lisa, and yet when he embraced me then kissed me, for the first time since… For those few brief seconds, I hadn't hurt...anywhere. I don't know what that means, or even if I want to find out. To be honest, the possibilities scare me.

But what scares me more is not knowing, and maybe I never will, because now he's gone. No one knows where or when/if he's coming back.

So maybe the love I felt in the kiss had really been about life. Maybe he'd gained some new perspective about it, and maybe the kiss itself had simply been 'thank you and goodbye'. That makes sense and all seems perfectly reasonable, but for some reason, breathing has become extremely painful. My whole body has begun to ache on a bone deep level again, and I clutch futilely at my chest with a sense of inevitability.

The others notice my distress. They all see me as someone other than just the tea-boy now for which I'm somewhat grateful, but as they move toward me with expressions of concern, I know with absolute certainty that I've never felt more alone in my life.

--

the end

so what did we think??? **For those who don't normally read the author's notes at the top please go back and do so before you go it is important as this story is not mine and I want the credit to go to the proper person. Please review so she knows I'm not the only one who thinks her stuff is great pretty please and I will pass them on to her.**

**Thanks, I love you all and am now going back to write some more of exchange program so you can have an update soon.**

**Kayla**


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